


Human Heart

by girahimu_sama



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, VergilV, inspired by bloody palace, really what can i say they do battle and then fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girahimu_sama/pseuds/girahimu_sama
Summary: It is such a strange thing, for the soul to be at odds with itself. V and Vergil resolve the rift within themselves the only way they know how.(Inspired by V's Bloody Palace ending.)
Relationships: V/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Human Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Well uh, this is something different from me inn't. Yeah I tripped and fell into Devil May Cry and I actually find this pairing really fascinating. I want to write more of VergilV as well because I think it has a lot of potential as a pairing and also for them as characters. So! Here we are. Consider it an experiment I guess.
> 
> In yugioh fandom terms we would call this soul room fucking!

Vergil dreams of the top of the Qliphoth.

A reconstruction of the very place his ideals had come crashing to a halt, stopped by an ethereal palm on his chest, wings spread before him. The apex of his world and the end of the path he'd carved, torn for himself. The natural end, and a new beginning starting with _I'll make you submit, father._

It's an interesting choice of the subconscious, seeking some kind of atonement - or perhaps justification. Vergil doesn't often look to the past - or at least, didn't make a habit of it before it all finally caught up to him.

Fitting then, that their dance should take place here.

V climbs the roots and crests the final hill, his familiars trailing behind him, Griffon at his shoulder, Shadow on his heels. Dante killed the real Nightmares, so they were nothing more than projections of his memories. Though by the same logic, so is he. It doesn't matter. They're real all the same, real enough in this realm anyway.

The throne of twisted roots sits in the same place it had in the physical world. V approaches, an emotion that can't quite be placed stirring in his gut. Something very much like resentment, cut from the same cloth as Vergil's own deep seeded bitterness.

He supposed he did have the right to resent the being before him, as metaphorical and reeking of self hatred as that may have been. But much like his journey to rejoin the two halves of himself, he can't dwell on it. Too much to be done. Too much beyond himself.

If Vergil is surprised to see him, he doesn't show it. The throne dissolves to dust as he stands, turns, and regards him coldly.

"You."

V smiles, but Griffon speaks up.

"Is that the thanks we get for purging your bad little dreams, Vergie-boy?!" He flaps at V's side, graciously landing on the offered arm. Griffon scoffs, shaking out his feathers in exasperation. "You have no idea what we've been through for your sake, huh?"

Shadow brushes past V's legs, baring her fangs and letting out a disgruntled little snarl. V can understand their discontent. Though he wouldn't have voiced it quite like Griffon, his woes were something along the same lines. It is such a strange thing, for the soul to be at odds with itself.

"You already know what I want," V leans on his cane, voice an easy cadence despite the intent blackening the air.

Vergil narrows his eyes, truly considers him for perhaps the first time. V knows the way he calculates a threat, decides if it's worth his energy.

And he just as quickly turns away.

"Don't be a fool." Vergil says, gazing at the horizon. He inclines his head the smallest amount, the only acknowledgement V is still there. "I have no need of you here."

Grip tightening on the handle of his cane, V drops his head, a grim chuckle rising in his throat. He understands the frustration crawling through his blood, had known it so intimately in the month he'd been in Red Grave. Had seen it in Nero. It's such a human thing to feel powerless, feel discarded.

But he's not like Nero. He doesn't care about approval. Not here anyway.

"Pierce through him."

Dozens of ink black spikes split the ground where Vergil had been standing. He appears above V, Yamato drawn, but Griffon intercepts, crackling with lightning.

_"Yeeahaha- fuck yeah!"_

Springing back to avoid a nasty shock, Vergil's cold indifference shifts to muted amusement, and something like anger rises in V's stomach.

The dance begins.

Once, V's flesh had crumbled under the weight of his own power steadily bleeding out of him. Standing up to a demon of Urizen's caliber was laughable, suicide even.

"But the following Contraries to these are true," V taunts, parrying a blow from the Yamato. 

Shadow rushes in, spinning into a blade to catch the slip in their defences. Vergil blocks the buzzsaw charge at him, but while his energy is focused on that, V takes the opportunity to plunge the cane into his shoulder.

That amusement of Vergil's wears away pretty quickly. As the battle rages on, it becomes clear that the laws of reality don't apply here. V has no doubts that, had this been a duel in the waking world, Vergil would have sliced him to ribbons by now. But it isn't, and his flesh and body is doing more than merely holding itself together - he feels _strong_ and his familiars crackle with power they can barely contain. And when his cane clashes with the Yamato, he can feel Vergil's strength waning in return, like the hourglass has tipped in his favour this time.

"You can't defeat me." V says, locking the cane with the Yamato. The metal sparks, lapping up the energy pouring through the air as V presses his will against his other half's. "Or rather, you _won't_ defeat me."

Vergil, who hasn't let much show on his face aside from irritation that he was fighting a losing battle, widens his eyes ever so slightly.

"What are y-"

"How do we resolve this, Vergil?" V shoves forward, breaking the lock and forcing him back several feet. His own voice trembles, every emotion Vergil carelessly discarded raking at his innards, swelling in his stomach like bile. "What do you _need_ from me?"

"What nonsense are you on ab-"

Nightmare's fist punches up through the ground beneath Vergil's feet, cutting him off for the second time. He's forced into the air, and V doesn't hold back this time. He stalks forward, throwing an arm out to send forth his familiars, and between Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare's relentless assault, it doesn't take long before Vergil's back hits the wall of the arena. The Yamato clatters to the ground some ways off.

V vanishes, reappearing in front of him with the tip of the cane pressed to his heart. They're both breathing hard. Vergil merely watches him, face like stone, waiting - waiting for something V doesn't want to give him just yet. If he finishes him off, he vanishes again. V wouldn't call it death, because if he was dead both of them wouldn't be here right now, but the subconscious is comparable. It is darkness… nothingness.

And, until they have this little dance of theirs again, what changes?

"You lie only to yourself," V utters, barely more than a whisper. Lies that cracked them apart, quite literally split them in two. Dragged him through a month of hell because of the calamitous, soul rending _lie_ that his humanity was a weakness to be cast off. One that had been branded into him by defeat and the fingers of darkness itself as it squeezed him into a shell of his former self, a puppet.

_The heart is a tumour of weakness._

A lie that he had wholeheartedly believed at one point, but a _lie_ nonetheless.

And it crashes on them both at once.

Vergil slides down the wall and V falls with him, switching to holding the cane across his chest instead as he kneels over his legs, the handle digging against his collarbone.

"V…"

It seems even Vergil's stubbornness has its limits, because the control slips from his voice and it comes out as a strangled whisper. V appreciates the vulnerability, fleeting as it may be, and reaches up with his free hand, fingers finding the shape of Vergil's cheek.

"You want to be weak, don't you?" V's own voice is fragile in his throat, but tinged with sweetness. The words resonate through him, relief at the admission. Vergil doesn't need to verbally agree with him, because it rings through them both. V presses their foreheads together.

"We've been strong for far too long, haven't we?"

Long enough that they shattered, had to break apart so the lesson sunk in for at least one part of their fractured psyche. Weakness wasn't possessing these emotions, it was having the strength to let them be shown, let someone _protect and love_ them.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vergil grimaces, breathes in and out, and steadies himself again. The walls build back up, and he sets a hand on V's shoulder and presses him back.

"Please…" He's not - or can't - look at V while he says it, the ambiguous plea hanging in the air.

"Please what, Vergil?" V leers back at him, speaks low and raw. "Tell me what you want… what you need from me."

"You won," Vergil bites out, jaw set, like he'd rather be anywhere but here. It's a wonder he admits defeat at all. "Claim your victory."

"Damn, really turning up the romance there." Griffon's sardonic caw fills the space around them as he swoops close, voice too harsh for the fragility of the moment. "I'm blushin' pink over h-"

The cane hooks over his beak and sends him back into V's skin with a sharp yank, but not without a cackle echoing through their mind. After sending the other familiars away so that they may be alone, V turns his attention back to Vergil, who looks perturbed now, far away from himself. Intimacy was never an easy thing for him, and perhaps it comes easier for his human half.

"Relax." V's fingers find Vergil's wrist, brings it up to his mouth. Vergil allows it, but his own fingers curl into his palm, his eyes never leaving V. Smirking, V presses his lips to the pulse point, hearing with satisfaction the other's breath still. "I'll be gentle."

And he is, delicately unfurling Vergil's nails from his palm and kissing that too. Vergil's fingers are covered in blood - either his own or V's, still drying from their duel - and V lets them touch his parted lips, tongue gliding out to taste them. Vergil's eyes widen, and his breathing starts again, faster this time. Smug, V's lips close around his thumb and he sucks that clean.

The cane clatters to the side as he drops it in favour of shifting against Vergil, properly straddling him this time. His palm presses to the wall beside his head as he leans close again, pausing, crimson smeared along his jaw and painting his mouth.

Vergil nods once, almost imperceptibly, and V closes the distance. The blood burns hot between their lips and he gives a ragged sigh. He is human, but the copper taste sings in the demonic power binding them both. Vergil's reaction is more intense, for once, a growl rising low in his throat. His devil stirs just beneath the skin, and V thinks it interesting he chooses to let it awaken now of all times. Like some last part of him still wants to resist, wants to shield his heart.

V tilts his head and licks into his mouth, savoring the rush. He doesn't notice Vergil's hands, previously hovering near his sides as if they don't know what to do, until fingers thread into the back of his hair and cradle his head. The first real display of affection, that he desires him - desires _this_ \- and V can't help the small whimper catching in his throat. The last place to seek security should have been in the arms of a demon, but it's something they're both sorely deprived of. Another hand pushes at the small of his back, aligning their bodies closer.

V doesn't exist beyond themself, beyond this realm twisting and melding their memories into something corporeal, and he never had the time to desire for anything beyond his goal in his short existence. So perhaps - perhaps he can be selfish.

Vergil hisses, sapphire flames burning scales along his skin. The transformation is spotty, wings and tail rising from his still very human form. V pulls back and laughs under his breath, reaching up to stroke the horns jutting from his head, as if the symbolism can't become anymore obvious.

_"On what wings dare he aspire?"_ V's thumbs run along the smooth protrusions, fingers wrapping around them. Vergil's growl simmers to a hum, and V continues, low. _"What the hand, dare seize the fire?_

He drags Vergil into another kiss, feeling his fangs sharp under his lips. Vergil exhales sharply, the cold burning between them. V doesn't mind, pushing the arctic taste back into his mouth with his tongue and relishing the tremble it pulls from his other half.

Claws push at his back and dig along his scalp now. They cut through the leather of his jacket as Vergil's grip tightens, then releases. Clenching, unclenching, with the intent to - rip him away? Rip him apart? Tear into him to get impossibly closer? V thinks the latter is likely, as he feels a tail snaking around his waist. 

The world unravels as Vergil does, as it's less form and more thought now, shifting with the tides of unconsciousness. The sky, the Qliphoth, the stars - they all bleed away, leaving just the two of them in the condensed, protected space Vergil has carved out for himself. Similarly, clothes are more of an abstract concept now, and V is free to run his fingers and lips along the newly bared skin offered to him.

He supposes it can be considered some form of narcissism, but does that truly matter here, completely hidden away from any judgements from the outside world? Not that Vergil would care much for the opinions of others, but if this was what it took to allow himself the _love_ they'd been so sorely deprived of, then so be it, V was a narcissist.

It doesn't diminish the fact that Vergil _wants_. At the end of their mad climb for power, that was all it was - to be safe and untouchable. The latter is, evidently, quite impossible, but the former… the former V thinks they can manage.

Demons know little else than domination and subordination, but Vergil is not completely demon. Still, perhaps that language is the only way he can allow himself the intimacy. V presses him down, the slow drag of his hips over Vergil's coaxing a louder moan from him. He looks ashamed of the noise, arranging himself back into a mask of impassiveness, but V would have none of that.

"It's just _fucking_ , Vergil. Even demons do it," he purrs, gripping Vergil's chin firm enough to hold his attention, but soft enough to let him know he is still aware of their limits. "I can stop if you wish."

Vergil considers it, and V gives him the space to do so. He understands the struggle, his own nature warring with his desire. It isn't an easy task to make a demon as powerful and proud as Vergil submit after all.

But the tension finally breaks, and Vergil can't fight himself for any longer.

"Don't stop," he utters, raw and open.

V smiles. He thinks they can compromise on this one.

Hands settling at Vergil's shoulders, he straddles his hips and watches with satisfaction as Vergil's eyes widen slightly. Perhaps he'd been expecting it the other way around but he certainly doesn't protest when V sinks down on him, hot and perfect like a dream. He stretches V, so much bigger in his partial devil trigger form, but physical limitations don't apply here and V is as slick and accommodating as if he's had hours of prep. 

It's worth it, so very worth it, to see Vergil come apart, the way his mouth falls open and his brows knit and his eyes go a little unfocused. Such vulnerability he'd never reveal to anyone, but V owns it all - knows it so intimately, and his heart beats fast against Vergil's as he holds him close, moving with him.

Claws dig at his hips as Vergil presses his face into his shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut now, pushing up to meet V. It's a blindingly intense mesh of nerves and heat and V gasps hard and throws his arms around the other's neck. A short, breathless laugh overtakes him as he kisses Vergil's jaw, feeling him beginning to lose himself to something primal.

And V is nothing but pleased as instinct takes over and Vergil flips their positions, the hazy floor meeting V's back. It's still _his_ victory as Vergil pushes deep into him, panting hard and just letting himself _feel_ just like V wants him to. V's legs wrap around his waist even as the tail is still twining them both together. V can feel the tip of it running along his calf and he holds on tighter, dragging nails down Vergil's back.

"That's it…" he moans his encouragement into his ear. "Such a _good boy."_

The comment earns him a sharp bite on the neck that shoots straight to his erection rutting against Vergil's stomach. He closes his eyes and focuses on his own pleasure, each thrust sparking through his body, all fire and heat branching up his spine. And Vergil, his strong body surrounding him, fucking into him like the demon he is. So close, so ready.

One of V's hands slips away, conjuring metal into his grip. He aligns the tip of his cane to Vergil's back, feeling him shiver as the pleasure begins to mount, building to a blinding peak.

In one swift movement, V slips the cane between Vergil's ribs and into his own heart, connecting them. The world comes apart in bright white ecstasy, crashing over them both. Release spills between them, into V, and he kisses Vergil to swallow his cry, the fingers of his other hand combing through his hair. The orgasm leaves them both trembling, and V feels the thrum of their joined pulse through the metal impaling their bodies. He smiles against Vergil's lips and presses their foreheads together, wishing he could hold this moment for an eternity.

But he can already feel the waves of Vergil's subconscious lapping at him, his form beginning to dissolve into the darkness. The dream is like sand, the last grains slipping through the hourglass. 

Vergil drags lips along his jaw, presses them against his throat. Gratitude, love, and a plea above all else - all things he can't express in words, but V hears within his own soul.

He can't stay, but he'll never leave. V lets that be known with a few sweet words he utters into his other self's ear before the darkness can claim him completely.

"You and I… are one."

**Author's Note:**

> ... and then Vergil wakes up in a cold sweat wondering what All That was about.


End file.
